


A Most Welcomed Distraction

by Bee_Charmer



Series: The Challenge is Knowing When to Give in [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, CEO Lexa (The 100), Doctor Clarke, F/F, Phone Sex, Teasing, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 07:42:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14689578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bee_Charmer/pseuds/Bee_Charmer
Summary: When Lexa leaves town for a business trip weeks after first meeting Clarke, she can't help but check her phone more often than she should in hopes of seeing another message from Clarke. Fortunately for Lexa, Clarke is more than willing to provide a rather frustrating distraction.





	A Most Welcomed Distraction

The third glass of scotch tasted as good as the first. Lexa swirled the last half of the pour in her glass absentmindedly, trying not to noticeably clench her jaw as yet another man in a perfectly tailored and too expensive suit began a conversation by claiming how rare it was to see a woman enjoying a neat glass of whisky. 

“I’ve always been a bourbon fan myself.” He—Quint, Lexa remembered—said with a lift of his glass. 

Lexa tilted her head ever so slightly to the amber liquid full of quickly melting ice. “I’ve enjoyed many as well, Quint, but there’s something about scotch.”

He smiled. It was meant to be charming. “The way they make their liquor just makes it taste like dirt, in my opinion.” 

_Very few outside of the Islay region have a noticeably peaty flavor._ She thought, not for the first time that night. 

Straightening her shoulders, Lexa grinned. “Should your company wish to continue talks of expanding to Polis, I’ll be sure to arrange a meeting where I know they have a few bottles of scotch that will win over the most skeptical of drinkers.” 

Lexa knew that would never happen. She’d seen his reports, seen his expansion plans. They were flawed and she and her team weren’t inclined to point out the imperfections, lest he actually manage to fix them. 

“I think I would like that, Miss Woods. Maybe there are a few high quality bottles worth trying.” Quint laughed, the sound grating against Lexa’s quickly waning patience. “And you know, it might be a bit on the simple side, but Jack Daniels has always been one of my favorites. I’m sure I can drink that if nothing else.” 

_That’s not even bourbon._

Her annoyance rose, threatened to show in the tightness of her expression. 

“Quint.” Anya’s hand stretched forward in greeting before he had time to notice the chill in Anya’s voice. “So nice to see you again. If you’ll excuse me, I’m afraid I need to steal Lexa for a moment.” 

“Of course. Work never ends, after all.” He wasn’t able to hide his annoyance as well as he thought. 

Anya smiled, the grin nearly feral and Lexa flashed a warning look her way, silently urging her to manage just one last night without blatantly offending someone. 

Anya ignored her. “Quint, I believe Indra is still here this evening and if you would like to discuss your upcoming plans with her, I know there were several points she was particularly intrigued with. Her branch in Ton DC recently worked with several companies as they expanded. You should find her.” 

A spark lit in Quint’s eye as he excused himself, taking a long pull of his drink before vanishing into the well-dressed crowd.

Lexa sipped her scotch, relishing the smoky notes and earthy flavors. “Indra will kill you for that.”

“She beat me at cards last night. She deserves it.”

Lexa laughed. “I will not be the one to tell her that on our flight tomorrow.” 

Anya shrugged. 

“Did you need something?” Lexa asked after Anya spent longer than usual eyeing the people around them. 

“No, you just haven’t looked at your phone in the last fifteen minutes to see if your girl texted and I thought it was probably killing you by now.” 

“She’s not my…” Lexa trailed off under Anya’s glare. 

“If you could go an hour without mentioning Clarke, I might believe you. You can’t though.” Anya said. 

Lexa ignored her and reached for her phone. 

Anya did have a point. It had been weeks since she and Clarke met. Since they started… whatever it was they were doing. It was meant to be casual, meant to just be a fun few nights here and there. They were both too busy for anything else, too wrapped up in their own lives to share it with someone else. 

Then they’d started talking. 

Clarke would text her after long shifts at the hospital. At first to meet up, then one night it had been to talk about a tough patient. Then it became a regular thing, with Lexa returning the favor with texts between meetings that turned into calls after frustrating clients. 

Even with their constant messaging, Lexa still felt her pulse quicken and a familiar tightening in her stomach when she saw Clarke’s name on her screen. 

“Sickening.” Anya said, the hint of a smile in her eyes keeping Lexa from ever believing she wasn’t secretly thrilled Lexa had found someone. 

Only then did Lexa realize she’d smiled when she saw the text notification, sent only a few minutes prior.

 **Clarke:** How much longer are you stuck drinking delicious scotch in the company of people you’d rather throw off the building?

 **Lexa:** Too long.

Five more minutes would be too long, but it would be at least another hour and a half before the crowd thinned enough for Lexa to make her exit without seeming rude for leaving her own company’s event early. If she wasn’t the CEO, perhaps, but things were expected of her. 

The reply was almost immediate. 

**Clarke:** I hoped to catch you before I went to sleep…

 **Lexa:** I’m amazed you’re still awake.

 **Clarke:** I lost track of time texting this beautiful woman who can’t respond quite as often as I’d like, but I can’t help myself.

 **Lexa:** Interesting. I keep checking my phone to see if a particular woman has texted me as well. Unfortunately, I can’t check as often as I’d like.

 **Clarke:** And what do you keep hoping you find?

 **Clarke:** Because I have to admit… I haven’t just been laying here in bed.

Lexa’s chest tightened as soon as she read the message. 

**Lexa:** oh?

“I can only stand here so long and make it seem like you’re busy.” Anya said. “Especially if you’re going to make that face.”

“I did not make a face.” Lexa slid her phone back into her bag, hating the lack of weight in her hand as soon as it was gone. 

“You set your jaw. Your brow quirked. Whatever you want to call that, I saw you do it and I have a feeling I really do not want to know what she said to you.” 

At that, Lexa grinned. 

“As I said, sickening.” 

“Do you want me to remind you what you were like when you first started dating—“ 

Lexa did not get to finish her question before Anya said, “We are not talking about me. We are talking about you and Clarke, who you will see tomorrow.”

“No, we fly back tomorrow. I don’t know if she’ll be free once we land.” Lexa said. 

Lexa pointedly ignored Anya’s glare. 

“I will bet you a bottle of that godawful whisky you like that you see her tomorrow.” 

As if to prove Anya wrong about her particular taste in alcohol, Lexa finished her last sip before quietly admitting she would not take the bet. It would be impossible to pretend as though she wanted to do anything but find Clarke as soon as their plane landed, especially not when all she could currently think about was the faint buzz she felt in her bag as a message came through. And then another.

“Okay, I’ve given you enough of a break. Get yourself another drink and try not to kill the next person who tries to talk to you. You might even have time to respond to your girl before someone corners you again.” 

“She’s not my—“

With a smirk, Anya was gone. 

Lexa might’ve been more concerned with correcting Anya if it hadn’t been for the fact that she was already pulling her phone from her clutch before Anya’s back was turned. 

Four messages.

 **Clarke:** I’ve been thinking about you.

 **Clarke:** That first night we shared this bed.

 **Clarke:** How soft your lips were against mine.

 **Clarke:** How rough those kisses grew when I dug my nails into your back to pull you closer.

Lexa felt a shaky breath escape her parted lips. 

**Lexa:** Fuck, Clarke.

She read back over the messages before she thought to see if it was possible anyone else could see her screen from where they stood. Fortunately, there was no one. Unfortunately, Lexa has already drank the last of her whisky and she desperately needed something to wash away the sudden dryness in her throat. 

As she stood at the bar and signaled the bartender for another pour, Lexa felt her phone vibrate again. It took every ounce of her willpower and a reminder that she was in a room full of people who were likely to try and walk up behind her for Lexa to ignore the notification. 

Only when her drink was in hand and she found a relatively private corner of the bar did she allow herself to look. 

It was a picture. 

Tousled blonde hair, the hint of Clarke’s smile visible, and an undeniably naked body barely covered by sheets Lexa could still remember the feel of. 

**Clarke:** I’ve been thinking about the slight bruises you’ve left. 

**Clarke:** How wet you can make me with just a smile. 

“Lexa!” 

Lexa barely controlled her glare as she very, very quickly locked her phone. 

That picture was for her. 

And only her. 

“I’ve had several people inquire as to if you plan on staying for the rest of the evening.” The man said, quickly barreling on. “Many of those people are potential investors.”

“Titus, this is my company. This is my event. I’m aware of the kinds of people who are here tonight.” Lexa said. 

If Titus had not interrupted her, had not interfered with her chance to respond to Clarke, Lexa might have been able to keep some of the malice out of her voice. 

“My apologies, I simply mean—“ 

Lexa held up her hand as she felt her phone ring. It was rude, she knew. 

But it was Clarke calling her.

“Sorry Titus, I need to take this.” 

She managed to take two steps away from him before answering, trying to at least pretend for anyone who saw her that she was taking a business call. 

“Clarke?” 

“Here I was, worried you wouldn’t be able to pick up.” Clarke said, her voice lower than normal, raspy in ways that left Lexa immediately on edge. “How’s your evening going?” 

“Remarkably better as of late.” Lexa said, resting her back against the wall on the far side of the bar, as far away from people as she could manage. 

There were still too many around, too many people spilling into the space beyond the doors as well. 

“Same for me, believe it or not.” Clarke said.

Lexa could hear the smile in Clarke’s voice. 

“Did you like that little picture I sent you?” Clarke asked. 

Lexa eyed the people near her, trying to see just how many of them were trying to eavesdrop on her conversation. “Of course.” 

“Care to tell me what you liked the most?” 

There was a focus behind Clarke’s words Lexa couldn’t quite name, couldn’t quite place. 

Lexa sipped her drink, wetting her tongue. “That’d be impossible.” 

“Impossible because you can’t decide or impossible because you’re surrounded by people?” 

Lexa hesitated before saying, “Both.”

“While that is certainly a shame, I’d still prefer to keep talking to you though.”

Tightening the grip on her phone, Lexa listened, fighting to place the difference in Clarke’s voice as it threatened to get lost in the low music filling the bar.

“You know I don’t mind.” Lexa said. 

“I know you especially won’t mind if I say I called because it was becoming increasingly difficult to type with one hand.”

And suddenly Lexa could place the faint breathiness in Clarke’s voice, the increasingly raw edge to her words. 

“Clarke…” 

“Careful about saying my name like that with people around. But you know I like when your voice”—Clarke bit back a moan, no longer trying to mask the pleasure she sought for herself—“gets like that.” 

Lexa barely managed to control her own breathing, barely managed to avoid dropping her glass.

The rasp of Clarke’s voice increased as she asked, “Tell me, Lexa, can you at least say ‘yes’ or ‘no’?” 

“Yes.”

“Good.” 

“I can’t stop thinking about you. I know it’s only been a few days, but I was laying here and I couldn’t…” Lexa could hear the shifting of Clarke’s sheets, could hear the quickened breaths as Clarke gathered her next words. “I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I want you in this bed with me.

“Do you want me to stop?” Clarke asked, voice shaking slightly. 

“No.” 

“I don’t want to either.” Clarke said. “I want you here. I want your hands on me. Fuck. I want your mouth between my legs.

“Remember how you bucked your hips against my tongue when I went down on you that first night?” 

“Yes. You were… Yes.” Lexa fought down the rest of her words, fought the urge to tell Clarke how amazing she’d been, how she’d gotten herself off more times than she could count to the thought of those too-blue eyes staring up at her. 

“I can’t get you out of my head.” A moan engulfed her last word. Long, drawn out. “My fingers aren’t enough. I… I want yours inside me, feeling how wet I am, pushing in deep, curling and pressing against me. God, I’m so wet. Are you getting wet for me?” 

“Yes.” 

Lexa could feel the heat between her legs, could feel the wetness growing, could feel her need building as well. 

“I… fuck… this is getting hard to keep talking.” 

“Don’t stop.” The command was past Lexa’s lips before she could remind herself of the many people lingering throughout the room, just out of earshot. 

The way Clarke moaned, the rough, raw sound that sent a surge through Lexa kept her from caring if anyone overheard. 

“I’m so wet just thinking about you. I want the weight of your body on mine. I keep thinking of you taking off my clothes piece by piece, kissing down my body. Fuck, the way you tease me turns me on so much. The way you touch me… the way you taste me.” 

Lexa closed her eyes, picturing Clarke on her bed, touching herself, desperate and wanting. 

“Can you tell how close I am?” 

“Yes.” 

“Do you want to listen as I—“

“Yes.” Lexa clenched her jaw around the word. 

The hint of Clarke’s laugh was swallowed by a rough gasp, a deep moan, the jagged breaths of her coming undone. Lexa could picture it then, could see the way Clarke threw back her head, the way those blonde curls spread out over her pillow. It was almost enough to send Lexa over the edge without a single touch. 

Lexa waited, listened as Clarke’s breath began to even out. 

“Did you like that?” Clarke asked, a slight moan of protest laced the question. 

Lexa imagined Clarke sliding her fingers free. 

She threw back the rest of her drink. “Yes.” 

“So did I.” 

Lexa waited, listened as Clarke stretched, relaxed further into her bed.

“This is your last night, right?” Clarke asked, her breaths still heavy as she came down from her high. 

“Yes.” 

“Then enjoy the rest of your evening and I can’t wait until you get home tomorrow. Goodnight, Lexa.” 

Lexa could hear the teasing in Clarke’s voice, could hear the challenge. 

She smiled. 

“Goodnight, Clarke.” 

Lexa hung up, her mind already racing with ways she could pay Clarke back. 


End file.
